


France Is In The Middle

by TeruMikamiIsAFanatic



Series: The Bad Friends-With-Benefits Trio [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Begging, Crack, Double Penetration, Drinking, Fingering, Hoo boy this is some real stuff, If my earlier stuff hadn’t convinced you, I’m going to hell, Just your regular old argument to kinky sex, M/M, Multi, Smut, Teasing, This certainly will, Threesome - M/M/M, Your everyday stuff, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeruMikamiIsAFanatic/pseuds/TeruMikamiIsAFanatic
Summary: Francis is in the middle of his friends’ disagreement that might not be a disagreement if they get to the bedroom quickly enough.





	France Is In The Middle

They’d had a bit too much to drink, Francis thought. The world was kind of sideways, Antonio had that conquistador look in his eyes, he couldn’t see straight, Gilbert looked every part a warrior, his face was warm, and his head was spinning pleasantly.  
‘ _I_ was the better warrior,’ the Spaniard repeated, face flushed. Gilbert shook his head, blinking slowly, the red bright against his pale skin.  
‘You were a pirate. It’s different.’  
‘Still better,’ Antonio growled, reaching for the wine again. Gilbert got to it first and drained it and suddenly they were fighting, no, kissing, no, somewhere between the two, battling for dominance on the floor in front of him. Biting, rubbing, rough and coarse and so obviously needy that Francis felt his cock push against the front of his jeans at the sight. God, they looked good like that, Gilbert’s pale hair spread out against Antonio’s tanned skin, hands reaching down to fondle and palm and steady.

‘Now, now,’ he slurred, greedily drinking in the sight, hoping they didn’t hear him so he could say he tried and keep watching. ‘Calm down, there’s no need to fight.’  
They stopped almost instantly, and Francis slumped in disappointment. Antonio turned to him, lips already showing the evidence of Gilbert’s kisses, before glancing at the Prussian. Gilbert nodded, not taking his eyes off Francis, and they fell on him.

Antonio met him in a kiss, pressing him back against Gilbert’s hands. Throat, collarbones, his unbuttoned shirt, everywhere around him.  
‘Francis,’ Antonio groaned. ‘Mmm, I want you.’ He tugged at the Frenchman’s shirt before pushing it impatiently off, running his hands down over Francis’ chest and ghosting onto the tightness in his jeans. Behind him, Gilbert pulled him into his lap and all Francis caught was a sharp grin as the Prussian ground into him and he he whimpered, pushed back on the heat, forward on Antonio’s hands, now palming harder, swept away by the heat.

And then all too soon the hands were still before he could come.  
‘Francis,’ Antonio repeated. ‘Do you want us?’  
Francis looked back at him, then at Gilbert, and a slow smile curled onto his face. ‘Together.’  
‘Together?’ Gilbert asked.  
‘You know what I mean, Gilbert. Together. Both of you inside me at once.’ He reached out and ran a finger over the bulge in Antonio’s pants, then a full grope, and he groaned.  
‘If he’s up for it, I am,’ Antonio said. ‘God, you’re good to us, Francis.’  
‘You know I am,’ the blond purred. ‘Take me away.’

They practically carried him to the bedroom, slamming against walls and breathing heated words against his neck. Somewhere between the door and the bed, Gilbert’s fingers were in his pants again, and he was thrusting against them as they laid him down on his back.  
‘So good,’ the Prussian cooed, making no move to remove Francis’ too-tight jeans, brushing against him inside. Francis squirmed and reached down to do it himself, but Antonio’s tanned fingers caught his.  
‘We will. Leave everything to us,’ he promised. ‘We’re gonna make you feel so good.’ Francis could only offer a whimper in response, and Antonio finally slid his jeans off.

Gilbert threw his shirt to the side and lavished kisses against Francis’ skin, rubbing his length.  
‘Leave it to us,’ he echoed, breath hot on his neck. Behind him, Antonio tossed away the foil, pulled his head around for a long kiss and gently slid a slicked-up finger inside.  
‘Relax, we have you,’ Antonio said lazily, working him deeper. ‘Have you ever done this before?’  
‘Or have you just dreamed about it?’ Gilbert interjected with a smirk. ‘Late at night? Fingering yourself deep, rubbing against the pillow, imagining us around you? Inside you? How full you’d be?’  
‘Perhaps I have?’

His friends exchanged smiles. Francis smirked at both of them, and suddenly Antonio added two more, just almost brushing his prostate.  
‘He has. Feel how loose he is, Gil, I think he’s been using his toys.’  
‘Hmm.’ Gilbert’s fingers joined Antonio’s, probing at his inner walls. ‘God, you’ve been wishing for us, haven’t you, Francis?’  
Francis could barely speak. The idea of them inside of him, filling him to the brim, moving together and taking and thrusting and he moaned. They were-they were teasing him, not touching that spot, someone’s hands on his hips, not letting him push back and find that wonderful place-  
‘Please,’ he begged. Antonio smiled and kissed him.  
‘We promised we’d make you feel great.’ He moved again, and his fingers finally pressed against the right spot, and Francis twisted underneath of him with a moan.

He could barely register the stretch underneath the heat and the words in his ears. Something about _pretty_ and _make sure you’re ready_ and ohh, just their fingers working him open relentlessly and rubbing inside him and the hand hot and callused around his cock, the anticipation of being filled by them and he was coming.

His entire body was fuzzy and deliciously warm, their touches sent sparks of pleasure running through him.  
‘Sit on my lap,’ Gilbert commanded.  
‘You’re so good.’ Antonio steadied him as he got up, and Francis felt so exposed under their eyes, obviously needy and flushed. They looked at him with adoring eyes, and when he settled down on the Prussian’s lap, Gilbert cooed in his ear as he spread his legs.  
‘God, you’re such a filthy slut for us, Francis.’ His cock fit right against Francis’s hole, rubbing slowly, slowly. The Frenchman’s own length leaked precum onto his stomach. ‘Toni, look at him. Look at the way his hole twitches when I finger him. Look at the way he’d come with just a touch.’

‘Stop teasing,’ Francis demanded. His voice was too breathy. The words were winding through his head, downwards, setting him aflame. The Prussian ground against him and he arched his back, pleading for more.  
‘You want it? You can imagine us deep inside you, pounding into you until you can’t see straight? You won’t be able to walk tomorrow, you’ll be so filled.’ Gilbert nipped at his ear and with a chuckle, slid into him.  
‘You can take it, I know you can,’ be soothed, giving a few shallow thrusts. Francis’ breaths came shaky and he squirmed, pushing back. Gilbert pushed a finger in beside his length, kissing his neck. ‘Antonio’s going to go in now.’  
Antonio’s tanned hands held him steady as he adjusted himself, pumping Francis’ cock as he slid in. ‘You’re doing it,’ he soothed.

Tears were forced to his eyes and he gasped. It hurt, it hurt, God it hurt so much-  
‘Francis,’ Antonio crooned, pulling him closer for a kiss. ‘You’re doing so well.’  
‘We’re gonna take care of you,’ Gilbert whispered. He whimpered. He hurt, but there, there-

He was full.

Francis moaned, realizing that they took up every space inside of him, that he could feel them so clearly and hotly and there, there, there-

It was good, it was so good-

He was so full, there was no more room inside him for anything else, and they were holding him and holding against that spot that made him writhe and he arched with a wail, not knowing if he wanted to get away or to get closer to their heat, to get more of them. He needed more of them.  
‘God, you feel fantastic, you’re so good, Francis,’ Antonio praised incessantly, gasping. Gilbert moaned low and deep, hips already rocking.  
‘Move,’ Francis begged, beyond comprehension. ‘Move, God, fuck me, please take me, use me, I need it.’

And then they were moving, holding him, crooning in his ear, promises of white-hot pleasure delivered and he could feel every inch of them, sliding and pounding and slick, pulsing, a hand stroking his cock, thumbing the head, he was aflame. He was beyond it all, rocking into their thrusts, clenching and pressing down on them, keening, eyes unseeing, swept away. It was good. It was so terribly, terribly good and sinful and he was so full, like he’d never been before-

It was pleasure like he’d never felt it was so good and he was full, every inch of him writhing wailing _god_ , so good so good-

The world wiped away white and Francis screamed, felt them pulse inside of him one last time, it took everything away.

‘So good,’ Antonio said tiredly when he’d come back, stroking his sweaty hair. Francis managed a weak laugh.  
‘Remind me to buy more of that stuff we were drinking, alright?’ He winked and laid back with a groan.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy, I’m going to hell. 
> 
> All I can say is that my title is not nearly so punny this time. But y’know, Francis is geographically in the middle? I’m not clever.


End file.
